Dry Ground
by SSK Productions
Summary: Following the events of Tidal Years, the team embarks on a mission to explore a planet and is washed up on dry ground.
1. Chapter 1

**Dry Ground, Chapter One  
Rating:** PG-13 (shouldn't go higher, maybe lower at times)  
**Word Count: **2,065  
**Disclaimer: **One half of SSK Productions is owned by pygmies & debt collectors. The other half is owned by her dogs. Logically, then, they own nothing.  
**Summary: **Following the events of Tidal Years, SG-1 finds themselves washed up on dry ground.**  
Pairings: **Eventually, Sam/Daniel & Mitchell/Vala. Maybe more later.  
**Author's Note:** This started as an idea for a missing scene fic for Atlantis and really spiraled out of control. We are insane, it's a given.

* * *

Tomorrow Never Knows

It never got old, stepping onto a totally alien world for the first time. No matter how many times Colonel Cameron Mitchell had done it, there was something unique, something different every time he stepped through the even horizon. And as he took in the vista before him, he couldn't help but think that they all had been given a second chance—even if he didn't remember it.

"What? No spiel?" Vala's voice cut into Cam's thoughts.

Cam smiled, knowing what she was talking about. "Welcome to P6X422," he began in his best tour guide voice. "You may want to pay special attention to the ruins," he continued, turning in a full circle. "Oh my…" He let the sentence hang unfinished as he saw the purple-pink sea stretch out no more than fifty meters away, contrasting the dull, sandy landscape he'd seen from the MALP pictures. And he couldn't help but stare at it. "That was not in the report," he said finally, pointing at the sea.

Sam smiled. "Briefly," she answered. "One small note on one of the last pages." She patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay, General O'Neill never read past the first sentence."

"If that," Daniel chimed in.

Sam pointed at Daniel in agreement, and they shared a smile.

"But it's so…." Cam struggled to find a word that adequately described what he was seeing.

Vala leaned closer to him. So close that he could smell the faint but pleasant scent of her shampoo. "The word you're looking for is magenta," she told him with a smile.

He broke off looking at the view again and turned to her. "It is _not_ magenta, Vala," he insisted. "It's purple…with a little pink."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Colonel Mitchell, that is in fact the definition of magenta."

Cam opened his mouth to contradict Teal'c, but really couldn't. The man had a point. "That is _not _the point, Teal'c," he answered, amused.

Vala smiled broadly. "Then what is the point, my dear Colonel?" There was a devious twinkle in her eyes.

Cam frowned. He stuck out his finger, not really pointing at anything or anyone in particular. "The point is…" he paused. "The point is that magenta is not a word that men should use…or know the meaning to," he finished. "It's like chartreuse or cerulean…or mauve."

"What are those?" Vala asked immediately.

Cam smiled triumphantly. "See? I have no idea."

"I hate to interrupt," Daniel began, "but I'm going to head over to the Ancient ruins we're here to study."

Cam nodded, back to business as usual. "Sounds like a plan. Sam, why don't you go with him." He smiled. "Try and keep the good doctor out of trouble."

Sam smiled, readjusting her P-90. "I make no guarantees," she joked back, elbowing Daniel lightly. They shared a smile.

Cam sighed. "Just try not to let him die again," he conceded. "And take the second MALP. God knows, it's mostly his gadgets anyway."

Sam chuckled as she took out the remote control for one of the MALPs, following Daniel up a slow incline.

Cam adjusted his hat a little. "Teal'c, why don't you scout the perimeter," Cam continued. "The UAV didn't show any signs of recent natives, but I'd hate to be surprised in the middle of the night or something."

Vala flipped her hair back and smiled at him, the sun catching her hair just so. "Why? Afraid of making first contact in your…what are they called?" She paused for a second. "Ah yes. Tighty-whiteys."

Cam looked at her, both amused and not. He shook his head ever so slightly. "I would…not first contact…Vala, go start unpacking the supplies." He turned, jogging after Teal'c. "And don't go anywhere," he called back.

She sighed, her hands resting on her hips. "Like there's anywhere to go," she called after him.

He waved his hand, not turning back to look. He caught up to Teal'c easily. "Thank god there are no locals for her to swindle," he muttered.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow, one side of his lips creasing into a smile. "Indeed."

* * *

Vala Mal Doran looked at the MALP with undisguised disdain. Piled high with supplies for their week long expedition, it looked like an insurmountable task to unload all of it. Not to mention unenjoyable, kind of like the week they would be spending on this backwater planet without all the amenities of the SGC. Oh, Colonel Mitchell claimed they had a shower, but Vala really didn't think it would be like the one she was used to. Besides, he had that little grin of his.

Truth be told, she was more of a city girl, and hadn't ever enjoyed the so-called "roughing it." It was going to be a long week, and she was going to have nothing to do while Daniel was off discovering some new secret about the Ancients.

She sighed, wrinkling her nose as a soft drifted along. It smelled slightly earthy, but whipped up a little of the surrounding sand. She wasn't a big fan of sand, but things weren't likely to change.

She looked at the MALP again, then grabbed the handle of one of the cases. She tried pulling on it to get it off the MALP. It wouldn't budge. Rolling her eyes, she pulled harder. It moved, but only slightly.

"You've got to be joking," she muttered. She gritted her teeth, got leverage by putting one of her feet below the case on the MALP, and pulled again. Abruptly, the case came loose. Unable to stop herself, Vala and the case went tumbling backward. Her head hit against what was probably the only rock in the area.

"Ouch," she said, feeling the back of her head where she'd fallen. She felt wetness and knew it was blood. "Well, that's perfect," she mumbled, sitting up slowly. The world spun around her a little. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, her vision had cleared considerably, and she was left staring at the contents of the case.

"You know," Mitchell's voice startled her. "I didn't bring anything you'd want."

Vala smiled, picking up a pair of underwear. "Who says?"

He didn't look amused as he grabbed them out of his hands. "I should have known you'd go straight for them," he mumbled, leaning down to stuff them back into the case. Then he kneeled beside her. "Let me take a look," he said more gently. "Not too bad, a band aid should do it." A minute later, he'd put the band aid in place, and Vala was noticing the wind had picked up considerably.

Vala pulled her hair back into place. "Did Sam say anything about weather?" she asked, almost shouting to be heard.

Cam shook his head. "Not that I know of," he answered. "Go give Teal'c a hand pitching the tents. I'll call Sam."

Vala nodded, and regretted it, but shielding her eyes with her hand, she made her way to where Teal'c had one tent up and another almost up. It hadn't really sounded like a terrible lot of fun before, but now with the weather, she was starting to regret coming.

And that was before the rain started.

* * *

Excitement filled Daniel every time he had the opportunity to study possible Ancient ruins, because he knew that there was the chance of finding something completely undiscovered.

"You've got that look," Sam's voice broke into his thoughts.

He glanced at her sideways, returning her smile. "What look?"

"That one that says you're about to find something big," she answered.

Daniel carefully brushed some sand away from the engraving he was looking at. "I don't know what we'll find here," he admitted. "But the fact that these ruins are so intact, with no Goa'uld symbols present, leads me to believe that the Goa'uld either never knew about this planet—"

"Or never visited," she finished.

He smiled again. "Exactly," he looked back at her. "Could you pass me the video camera?"

She handed it to him a few moments later. "Have you ever wondered why the Ancients chose the planets they did?"

He opened the camera. "Usually for some source, possibly depending on where the planet or system was located," he said as he started the recording. "But honestly, I wonder that a lot."

"I suppose that's half the fun, finding the answers," she responded. "I'm going to walk the perimeter again."

"Okay, see you in a bit," he said absently as he made a few notes in his notebook. Though most defiantly Ancient, the writing was in a dialect that he'd never encountered before. From his previous studies of the Ancients, he would have guessed that it was one of the less recent ones, but every once in a while, he came across some symbols that he recognized as part of an older dialect. Relatively speaking, of course.

But still, it was fascinating. He picked up a few words right away, while others gave him some trouble. Either way, though, he was completely engrossed when a gale of wind nearly knocked him over.

"Daniel!" Sam shouted to be heard over the sudden wind. She grabbed his vest, helping him back up. "Sudden weather."

He squinted. "Yeah, I see that."

She sheltered her eyes with her hand. "I set up the tent. I think it's best we try and ride out the storm from here."

He nodded. "Are they staying by the gate?" he asked, grabbing his camera, notebook, and a few other things, and followed her. He could barely see a few feet in front of him.

"Yes," she answered. "There's no way we could get back to them in time."

Daniel followed her into the tent. "Cozy," he commented, shaking some sand out of his hair, having seen the containers stacked in the corner of the tent.

Sam smiled wryly. "Well, we only had one tent on this MALP. I suppose we were lucky there." She unclipped her vest.

"What? That I had so much stuff they had to send an extra MALP?" Daniel teased.

She chuckled. "Yeah." She had taken out her scanner and was staring at it intently.

Daniel heard the sound of water hitting the tent like shattering glass and flinched. "How big is this storm going to be?"

She shook her head. "The UAV didn't show anything but constant weather systems in the previous flybys." She hit her radio. "Cam, you need to move to higher ground. This storm's putting out too much moisture too fast."

Static answered her, then silence.

Sam looked at her scanner again, frowning. "It's like the water has its own EM field, and it's interfering," she told him. "Cam, do you copy? You need to move to higher ground," she repeated. When she got no reply, she slipped her vest back on. "We have to go help them." She opened the tent a little and rain drops flew in at them with such force that it stung.

He grabbed her arm. "Sam, we can't go out in that."

She looked at him. "We have to."

He shook his head. "We can't. The water is interfering with the radios, they could be headed to us, and if we leave, we could get stuck out in that."

She was still looking at him, but he could tell she knew he was right. Finally, she nodded, undoing her vest once again.

Daniel glimpsed out onto the now nearly pitch black landscape, hoping that he was right. When he turned around, Sam was looking at her scanner again, the color drained from her face. He walked closer to her. "What is it, Sam?"

She looked up at him, panic in her eyes. "It's gone," she said quietly.

He frowned. "What's gone?"

"The land," was her reply. "We must be at the highest point."

"What are you saying, Sam?" He felt his stomach churning.

"There's about a hundred and fifty meters of land around us, but the rest is underwater," she answered.

"That couldn't happen that fast, could it?" he asked, panic growing in him.

She looked away from him, her voice soft and emotional. "But it did."

"What about, Teal'c, Vala, and Mitchell?" He had to ask, even if he knew what she was going to say.

She shook her head. "I'm not reading any life signs besides ours," she whispered. "And the gate…the gate is just…gone."


	2. Chapter 2

**Dry Ground, Chapter Two  
Rating:** PG-13 (shouldn't go higher, maybe lower at times)  
**Word Count: **981  
**Disclaimer: **One half of SSK Productions is owned by pygmies & debt collectors. The other half is owned by her dogs. Logically, then, they own nothing.  
**Summary: **Following the events of Tidal Years, SG-1 finds themselves washed up on dry ground.**  
Pairings: **Eventually, Sam/Daniel & Mitchell/Vala. Maybe more later.  
**Author's Note:** This started as an idea for a missing scene fic for Atlantis and really spiraled out of control. We are insane, it's a given.

* * *

Castles Made of Sand

Hope died when she woke. She could dream, and in that dream, things were peaceful, a gentle world where life was happy and free of pain. But she couldn't stay there. Eventually, inevitably, she would wake.

And when she woke, she remembered.

At first it seemed like a dream, surreal in nature and conflicting that truth was not the one she lived and breathed, it was something of her nightmares, and she would not accept it. She rose unsteadily to her feet and made slow progress forward, blinking in the glare as she stepped outside the tent.

Sunlight off water.

_No, no, no…._

The floodgates of the heavens had opened, the rain had come down in a deluge that she'd only ready and mostly dismissed as a myth, despite what Daniel had said about the universal nature of the flood mythology.

Blinking still, she stopped. Daniel…._oh god._ Where was Daniel?

Despite the light outside, the tent was dim, and she felt blind, grasping in the dark. Searching for something—anything—to tell her that Daniel was alive, that Daniel was okay.

That she wasn't alone.

"Daniel," she called, her voice rising in hysteria.

But he didn't respond.

Silently praying, she reached for his neck, hoping beyond everything that she had left, that she would find a pulse. As she pressed two fingers against his neck, she couldn't tell if it was her heart hammering inside her chest, or his that she was feeling.

"Okay, okay," she whispered to herself. "Deep breath." It was so easy to say, so easy to do in theory. But every time she closed her eyes and tried to lower her heart rate, she kept thinking of all the water filling every surface that had been land a day ago. How Teal'c, Cam, and Vala had been out there, and she had no idea if they were okay, injured, or dead. Or waiting for her and Daniel to rescue them. And she had no way of knowing anything about them.

Biting her lower lip, she checked for his pulse again. With her other hand, she gently shook Daniel. "Come on, Daniel," she whispered, hearing the desperation in her own voice.

Despite her training, despite all of the impossible scenarios they'd lived through in the past ten years, it didn't seem possible that this would be it. That this would be the end of SG-1.

Feeling wetness on her cheeks, she closed her eyes. She could feel Daniel's faint pulse, and it wasn't that she wasn't extremely grateful for that, but it felt like everything was coming down around her.

All of the castles they'd built returning back to sand.

* * *

They were his people, they were his team. They were out there, and they were gone. And it didn't matter that Jack O'Neill wasn't technically part of Stargate Command anymore, it didn't matter that SG-1 had come through things that no one expected them to. It didn't matter that he knew they were completely capable of handling themselves in any situation.

None of it mattered if they didn't come home.

And the worst part was that he expected them to make it, to come through the stargate at any moment, guns blazing but all right, but the hours continued to tick by slowly, yet far too fast.

He should have heard something by now. It was the not knowing that killed him. He needed to know, either way. But when the gate wouldn't connect, no matter how many times they tried it…his hope began to sink. There was no way to know. There were no answers to the questions that he wasn't saying, because if he asked them out loud, it would make it all real. And Jack wanted it to be a simple miscommunication, a simple mistake.

But he knew that it wasn't any of those. SG-1 never missed scheduled check-ins unless something was wrong. It had been over two days with since they'd gone through the gate. He knew it in his gut that something had happened to them.

He didn't want to believe that they were dead. These were friends. People he had known and worked with for years. Maybe not all of them, but he knew they had a bond. He couldn't just give up on them because he worked behind a desk these days.

And if he signed the piece of paper in front of him, he knew that it would be like giving up. All those times they'd never given up on him would mean nothing because he wouldn't return the favor.

He would betray them.

"Staring at it won't make them come back any faster," the voice of Hank Landry broke in over Jack's thoughts as he continued to stare out at the lonely silhouette of the gate.

Jack pursed his lips, glancing once more at the gate, then turned to face the other general. "How many times have they almost not come back?" he asked quietly.

Hank nodded, moving some papers around on his desk. "More than I can probably count right now. But it doesn't mean that they aren't going to surprise us again," he added after a moment. "And signing that won't mean you've given up on them, either."

He looked down at the papers in his hands. He knew that Hank was right, but it didn't feel like it was right. It felt like betrayal.

"We're not going to stop looking for them," Jack said, walking the few steps to Hank's desk.

"You shouldn't even have to ask that, Jack."

Jack picked up the pen, put it to the paper, and scrawled his signature. "Had to say it out loud," he said softly, feeling a little like he was losing SG-1. Maybe he already had when he'd left Stargate Command but just hadn't realized it until now.

And it all felt like sand falling through his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dry Ground, Chapter Three  
Rating:** PG-13 (shouldn't go higher, maybe lower at times)  
**Word Count: **1,376  
**Disclaimer: **One half of SSK Productions is owned by pygmies & debt collectors. The other half is owned by her dogs. Logically, then, they own nothing.  
**Summary: **Following the events of Tidal Years, SG-1 finds themselves washed up on dry ground.**  
Pairings: **Eventually, Sam/Daniel & Mitchell/Vala. Maybe more later.  
**Author's Note:** This started as an idea for a missing scene fic for Atlantis and really spiraled out of control. We are insane, it's a given.

* * *

Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

There should have been a sign.

Still, after two weeks of underwater hell, that's what Cam always came back to. There should have been a sign, maybe even more than one sign…something that said: This valley floods suddenly and for months, enter at your own risk. Or maybe the Piscisine who had rescued them could have moved the stargate to somewhere on the planet that didn't flood. It didn't seem like it would have been too much to ask.

Because the fact that there were only two others at the table with him instead of four should not have been too much to ask. And the Piscisine had been able to rescue the three of them, but not Sam and Daniel. And it ate at him a little more every time he didn't see them when he should have.

He rubbed his forehead, looking dismally at the food in front of him. It wasn't that it was bad, that he wasn't grateful. He just wasn't that hungry all of a sudden.

"Eventually, you're going to have to stop blaming yourself for it," Vala's voice broke in over his thoughts.

He sighed. "Maybe eventually I will," he answered softly, "but not yet. Not today." He pushed the plate away from him and stood up. He didn't mean to be short with her. He didn't want to be short with her. She and Teal'c were all that was left of his team. That was the problem. As much as he knew it wasn't their intention, they always reminded him of the two he hadn't been able to save.

He was relieved somehow that neither Vala nor Teal'c followed him. Nothing followed him but the sound of water and the guilt. Trickling, running constantly, always bringing him back to that day. The water that came crashing around them. He could still see it, could still feel the rain pounding against his skin, feel the panic rise in his stomach. But the knowledge was worse. The knowledge that two of his people didn't have a chance, and there was nothing he could do about it made him feel like he was drowning in all of it.

Like it was always raining, reminding him that maybe it should have been him that hadn't made it.

* * *

"I am concerned about Colonel Mitchell." Teal'c's voice startled Vala in the uneasy silence.

Vala chewed on her lower lip, knowing that the Jaffa didn't say things of that nature lightly. He was genuinely concerned. To be perfectly honest, so was she. Colonel Mitchell had been blaming himself for what had happened. It didn't matter if they all knew that there was nothing any of them could have done. It never mattered.

"What do you think?" she asked softly.

"I do not know if this is a situation which we can remedy," Teal'c continued after a moment. "My concern is that Colonel Mitchell will not see that."

Vala shrugged, not knowing what else to do. "Then we should make him see."

"How do you suggest doing that?"

She had expected his question, but she was still floundering for an answer. After a moment, she smiled. "You leave that to me," she replied, a small smile on her face.

"That is precisely what I am afraid of," Teal'c said softly, a bemused look on his face.

She twirled a lock of her black hair in between her fingers. "You know, you are just jealous that you don't have womanly wiles to use in situations like this," she answered.

That caused an eyebrow raise. "I can assure you, Vala Mal Doran, that thought had not even crossed my mind."

"Uh huh, sure it hadn't," she teased, picking up her food tray. "Well, if you want, because I know deep down you do, I can possibly tutor you. I mean, I can't guarantee your results will be as positive as mine, but we can definitely give it a shot."

"No, thank you," Teal'c replied instantly, almost before Vala finished her sentence.

She smiled. "Don't think you're up to it, Muscles?"

"On the contrary, Vala Mal Doran."

Her smile widened. "We'll have to test that theory at another time, then," she said, setting her food tray near the recycling receptacle. "Right now, I have—"

"A very important task," Teal'c finished for her, bowing his head.

She nodded, walking out of the eating area. Now the only thing she had to do was figure out what she was going to do before she got to Colonel Mitchell's quarters.

* * *

The Geek Squad was still in full invasion mode at Stargate Command, even after nearly a month after the _Odyssey_ had returned with the Asgard core. Personally, Jack would have thought that the flocks of white lab coated geeks wandering the halls with cups of coffee would have thinned out at least a little. But if anything, there were more of them now then there had been even a week ago.

That was why it seemed so wrong that the two biggest geeks that Jack knew were still missing. And he still felt absolutely helpless, which was a feeling that didn't sit well with the general. He knew he should have gone back to Washington weeks ago and resumed his duties there, but he just couldn't go back knowing that SG-1 was still...out there. He felt like if he went back, it would be just like saying he'd given up on them, and there was no way he was giving up on his old team.

A gaggle of some sub breed of geeks scurried out of his way as he walked into the messhall, their voices low and their hands filled with papers and tablet computers.

Jack shook his head slightly. Yep, the Asgard core was every geek's dream apparently, and Stargate Command was somehow their new mecca. Which was precisely why he hadn't been able to send the _Odyssey_ out to check on SG-1. The geeks were too busy crowning it their newest god-like...thingy, and he couldn't just "idly take it for a joy ride" as Woolsey had put it.

He skipped the actual line, not feeling very hungry and went straight for the carafes of coffee. He didn't even know why they bothered making decaf anymore—no one ever drank it. He picked up one of the four carafes labeled "regular" ad started to pour himself a cup. Or he would have, but it was empty. Slightly annoyed, he picked up the next one labeled the same.

It was empty as well.

So was the next one.

And the one after that.

This was insanity.

Out of curiosity, he tried the one carafe labeled "decaf," hoping for a different result.

It was empty, too.

This was pure anarchy.

Empty carafe in hand, he walked up to one of the uniformed personnel. "This is empty," he said simply.

The man looked at him. "Again, sir?"

Jack frowned. "What do you mean...again?" He didn't like the sound of that.

"We keep running out of coffee, sir," the man continued.

"Uh huh." He held up his mug. "Well, I need coffee, so do you think you could refill them?"

The man swallowed hard. "I'm afraid we're currently out of coffee until another shipment arrives."

Jack stared at him. This was a little unreal. Was it the Twilight Zone? No, it was worse than an episode of the Twilight Zone. Maybe it was like a weird new year's marathon.

At any rate, it wasn't good. He blinked. "No...coffee?" he asked for clarification, feeling a little deflated...and a little desperate. God only knew what all the geeks would do when they found out that their very sustaining lifeblood had run out.

There would be riots.

There would be insanity.

There would be mass casualties.

"How soon will the shipment get here?" he asked, not really hopeful of the answer.

"This afternoon, sir," was the reply.

Jack handed the mug and the empty carafe to the man. "Casualties shouldn't be that high then, " he muttered.

"Sir?" the man gulped.

Jack tried not to smirk. "You heard me," he said, walking away.

Behind him, he heard the man sigh. "That's what I was afraid of, sir."

Jack smiled. Oh, the fun never ended at Stargate Command.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dry Ground, Chapter Four  
Rating:** PG-13 (shouldn't go higher, maybe lower at times)  
**Word Count: **1-963  
**Disclaimer: **One half of SSK Productions is owned by pygmies & debt collectors. The other half is owned by her dogs. Logically, then, they own nothing.  
**Summary: **Following the events of Tidal Years, SG-1 finds themselves washed up on dry ground.**  
Pairings: **Eventually, Sam/Daniel & Mitchell/Vala. Maybe more later.  
**Author's Note:** This started as an idea for a missing scene fic for Atlantis and really spiraled out of control. We are insane, it's a given.

* * *

Forty Days

He thought he heard the rain again. Gentle, lulling, comforting...it was none of those things anymore. Once it had been those things. Once he had enjoyed running in the rain, listening to the soft drops fall on the ground. Once he hadn't dreaded the sound.

Once he hadn't felt like Noah, only having left part of his family behind. But now it seemed like he was reliving those forty days over and over again. Each day the same guilt, the same fears. Constantly second guessing actions he knew that he could never change. Time machines, time loops, and miracles aside, he couldn't go back.

But he couldn't go forward without them, either. And that scared him a little. Even if they did eventually get rescued by Stargate Command, what would he do? Pick new members for SG-1? Did he even have that right?

The simple answer was no. He may officially have been in charge of leading SG-1, but that was it. He was, for all intents and purposes, still the new guy. As illogical as it sounded, he really didn't want to go down in the history books as the first leader of SG-1 to lose part of the team. After all, General O'Neill had never actually lost a member of his team. True, there had been a few times—too many to name off—where Daniel had been believed dead. But in all of those times, he had never actually died. Ascended, yes...died, no.

Barring a miracle of some kind, that was exactly what Daniel was, though. Sam, too. And Cam couldn't get it out of his head. Over a month had passed, and it was always his first thought when he woke up—how he'd failed his team. How he'd failed his friends.

And he didn't know what he would tell their families—let alone General O'Neill. And that was if and when the waters receded enough for them to have use of the stargate again. Sure, the Piscisines said that it would be roughly three months before they could access it, but really, Cam wasn't sure he wanted to let himself believe that. As gracious as the Piscisines had been toward them, they had been just as secretive, and the fact that they seemed to be hiding something worried him. On some level, he did understand their point of view. SG-1 had been exploring their planet and all when the flooding had happened. And while the natives could have just let them all drown, they had managed to save three of them and give them safe harbor until the floods were gone.

But there was also something about them that Cam couldn't quite put his finger on.

A soft sound from the sleeping form next to him caught his attention. Smiling, he leaned over, kissing her neck softly.

"I thought we agreed that we were sleeping in this morning," she mumbled, her voice soft and still full of sleep.

He brushed some of her hair away from her face. "You agreed," he answered. "I couldn't sleep."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was caught once again by how beautiful she was. "You hardly ever sleep." She reached over and ran her hand over the side of his face. "You have to stop blaming yourself."

"You and I both know that will never happen," he answered softly.

She pulled his face close to hers and kissed him. "Then let me help you forget," she whispered in his ear.

And for a time, Cam knew she would succeed, too.

* * *

Daniel sat down outside the tent and tried not to feel hopeless. As the days stretched on and the supplies dwindled, hope seemed to go with them. He knew that Sam wasn't saying anything, neither of them was saying how they really felt, but he knew she felt the same. They were nearing what had to be the end. They'd been here before. They had been close to death so many times. It had started losing its edge, no longer having the same pull. They weren't really afraid of it, not anymore.

He wanted to be afraid. He wasn't sure what he was. Was he lost, if he didn't fear death? It wasn't that he expected to ascend again. He knew that wouldn't happen. Oma was gone, locked in a battle with Anubis, and the Ascended had not intervened to stop the Ori. They would not save them. The Asgard were gone. And the SGC wasn't coming.

That realization stabbed at his heart.

Jack was their friend. If there was any way to get to them, to rescue them, he would have done it. Daniel knew that. He believed it. There was no way the SGC would abandon them. It didn't matter if the IOA was in control or not. Jack would have come. They would have come.

Both he and Sam had done their best not to think about it. They had kept themselves as busy as possible. Since their power was limited, Sam had worked on making a solar generator out of what they had while he translated from the ruins that he mapped out. His rubbings were all he had left to work with now. The video camera had died weeks ago. And even with Sam's work, they couldn't make something out of nothing.

Nothing. What they had really was nothing. They had rationed as much as they could, but it was all gone now. Food, water, they were out of both. The food didn't matter quite as much as the water. None of the other supplies were going to save their lives. The truth was, everything else was useless. It didn't matter in the long run. The years of study, the long hours of work, always one more minute, one last note or translation, and it all came down to... nothing.

They were going to die. A very slow, very painful death as they died of dehydration. He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't keep his mind on anything else. He'd tried to work on the translations, but he couldn't concentrate. It didn't matter, that's what he kept going back to, and knowing that it didn't matter, how could he keep up the act?

Sam. He kept trying for her sake, knowing she was making the same effort for him. He kept trying to make believe that they would make it, somehow, and he could not stop now. Only he was too tired to go on. He wanted her to believe they would make it. He liked to see her with hope, see her with a smile. Lately there weren't any smiles, only halfhearted ones that were more like a grimace. If there was any way to give her back some of that hope, he would have done it if he could.

"I thought the water kind of lost its fascination after the first day or so," Sam muttered, sitting down next to him. He looked up at her with a small smile. His effort was pathetic, but she smiled back at him in the same broken way. "Aren't you sick of it?"

"Of course I am," he shook his head gently. "I just... Sam, I can't keep pretending anymore."

"You mean, you think we used up all of our get out of jail free cards, all of our nine lives and four leaf clovers?" she asked, wincing. "I could think of a few more puns, but..."

"Jack's not even here to appreciate them," Daniel said and regretted it. That wasn't what he should do, wasn't what he should talk about, but was there really any point in avoiding it? She nodded unhappily. "But yeah, it does kind of seem like our...luck, as it were, has run out. I mean, if there was a rescue coming, it would have come by now, right? And if it doesn't come soon, then it's too late anyway."

"Are you sure about that?" He looked at her. She sighed. "Of course you are. We both are. We've known for a long time, haven't we?"

He reached over to take Sam's hand. She didn't stop him. It was hard not to be... close after all this time, just the two of them. "When I think about how many times we've been at this point..."

"It doesn't seem real," she agreed. She shrugged. "Maybe it isn't. But it's really hard not to think it is, not after all of this. And this way... This way is almost _too _long. We know what's coming, and as much as we try not to think about it, it's all we can think about. So we're here, and we know we're dying, and all I can think about is how much I didn't get to do... There were theories I wanted to test, things I should have said and done... We never even talked about when you died. You came back, and we had you back, but we never talked about it. We just...buried it."

"There are a lot of things we should have talked about," Daniel told her. "Sam, there's something... I should have told you this a long time ago, but I couldn't... I..."

"What?"

"You remember that experiment you had, took you months to set up, needed approval and a lot of supplies and work, and you ran yourself ragged trying to get it done? You were up for almost forty-eight hours straight, and you finally left for a few hours sleep, and..."

"And the machine fried everything, yeah, I remember," she said, shaking her head. "What about it?"

"Um... I sort of... That is, I spilled coffee on your computer and wrecked everything. I couldn't tell you. I didn't... After all the work you put into it, I just couldn't face you."

She laughed. "It's okay, Daniel, really. I found a note in the Asgard archive. It never would have worked anyway."

He sighed. She touched his arm reassuringly. "Daniel, there's something else, something important that I need to discuss with you. I should have said something sooner, but I was so confused and conflicted by my own feelings, I didn't know how. When we met, there was something... But there was Sha're, and you were devoted to her, and then I felt something for the colonel—the general—and then for Pete and... It got a little mixed up in my head for a while. I thought... I thought as you were dying of radiation poisoning that I knew; it was all clear, and then you were gone and I had to find a way to go on, and I focused on the colonel, then Pete to get over the colonel, and there's just been so much time between all of that, and ten years later, I still haven't told you. I meant to, but I... I just couldn't. And if I don't say it now—"

"Sam, I love you," Daniel interrupted just as she blurted out nearly the same thing. They stopped and blinked and shook their heads. Both of them started to speak at once again. They started laughing. "Okay, I think we should take turns."

"Very logical. But, for the record, we said it at the same time the first time, so neither of us gets to play the whole 'I said it first' card," she told him. "Daniel, I love you. I think I've loved you for a long time and didn't know it."

"And I love you, Sam. I've known it for a long time, but I couldn't tell you," he admitted. He leaned over to her and stopped. "I was going to kiss you, but this really isn't that romantic."

"Who needs romantic?" she asked. "It's enough that we know."


	5. Chapter 5

**Dry Ground, Chapter Five  
Rating:** PG-13 (shouldn't go higher, maybe lower at times)  
**Word Count: 1,138**  
**Disclaimer: **SSK Productions does not own anything :)  
**Summary: **Following the events of Tidal Years, SG-1 finds themselves washed up on dry ground.**  
Pairings: **Eventually, Sam/Daniel & Mitchell/Vala. Maybe more later.  
**Author's Note:** This started as an idea for a missing scene fic for Atlantis and really spiraled out of control. We are insane, it's a given.

* * *

Fertile Seasons

It wasn't at all what Sam expected to see when she opened her eyes. She'd gotten used to the inside of the tent she and Daniel had been sharing since they'd been essentially marooned. She'd gotten used to the sound of water outside, the salty hint in the air, and she'd even begun getting used to the feeling of Daniel's arms wrapped around her.

She had woken up to none of those things, and it took her brain a good minute or so to register why. And then it took a few more seconds for her to contemplate whether or not it was a dream. It seemed real enough, but she knew from experience that she couldn't always trust what her eyes were telling her. And she wanted it to be real. She wanted it so badly, and if she was dreaming, it wouldn't be far off. It wasn't that she wanted it to be a dream. She wanted it to be real, but she was skeptical. It seemed too easy. She had been sleeping in the tent, next to Daniel, and then she'd woken up here. Too easy was an understatement. It was exactly what she wanted. It had to be a dream.

But they had been stuck on the planet for almost two months, and she'd never had a dream about being rescued. And point of fact, she hadn't been dreaming of a rescue, she had just dreamed about being rescued.

Or was it a dream?

Was it just crazy enough to be real?

She closed her eyes for a minute, then reopened them. Nothing had changed. Of course, her sub conscious could just be messing with her head. It wasn't like that had never happened before. But still, she wanted to be sure this wasn't a dream, a fact she was still debating when General O'Neill stepped into view.

"So," he began, a smile spreading across his face, "you figured you'd, what, sink the stargate and have a little vacation?"

Before Sam could reply, she heard Daniel's voice. "Yes, Jack, we thought it was a brilliant plan." He pulled the curtain that had been dividing where he'd been and where Sam was back. "And it would have worked a whole lot better if the SGC had approved Hawaiian shirts."

Sam smiled and laughed softly.

"Hawaiian shirts?" Cam's voice broke in from the doorway. "I would have really settled for ESPN."

Vala rolled her eyes. "You would."

"Indeed," was Teal'c's contribution to the conversation.

Sam looked at Daniel, seeing the relief she felt on his face, too. "How did you...? What...?" she searched for a way to ask what she wanted, unaccustomed to not having the words.

General O'Neill answered before anyone else could. "They had a resort underwater," he said quite matter-of-factly.

"I wouldn't call it a resort," Vala interjected. At the look Cam gave her, she shrugged. "There weren't massages. If it had been a resort, there would have been massages."

"Do not forget the manicures, Vala Mal Doran," Teal'c added in, a hint of humor in his voice.

Cam rolled his eyes at both of them. "Oh, no, we shan't forget the manicures. While we're at it, might as well add pedicures to that."

"Ooh." Vala smiled. "That would have been nice. Oh, the fun we could have had, Muscles."

Cam wrinkled his forehead. "Oh, so you'd have taken him to the resort spa, but not me, is that it?"

Vala shrugged. "Would you _want_ to go?"

"No, but that's not the—"

Vala put her finger over his lips. "It is the point."

"Well," General O'Neill chimed in. "I'm feeling the need to shower now. Anyone else?"

Daniel cleared his throat. "Um, hi guys," he began. "While I do want to know how this," he pointed around him, "all happened, I was wondering if I might speak to Sam a moment."

The General raised an eyebrow at him. "Go ahead and talk, Danny-boy."

Daniel sighed quietly. "In private?"

The light bulb seemed to click on in his head, and General O'Neill smiled. "Didn't get enough 'alone' time on the planet, did you?" he teased.

Daniel shook his head. "Yes, Jack," was all he said.

* * *

"What do you suppose they're talking about all secretively?" Vala asked as she followed Cam out of sickbay.

He paused just enough to let her fall in step beside him. "What do you think they're talking about?" he responded.

She raised one eyebrow and frowned. "I asked you first?"

He blinked. "Um, no. That was my answer," he told her. He glanced ahead of them at General O'Neill and Teal'c. O'Neill was busy chatting about a great new fishing hold he'd discovered. Teal'c looked like he'd like to revisit the planet rather than fish with the general.

Cam pulled her to a stop, and tugged her around a corner—out of sight of the two others. "You notice how...friendly Daniel and Sam seemed to have gotten?" he asked quietly.

Vala frowned. "They've always been friendly, Cam. I fail to see how being trapped on a planet would alter that in any way."

He sighed, shaking his head. "No, honey, they're _more_ friendly." He stopped. "Maybe friendly is the wrong word here."

She touched his shoulder. "Are you feeling all right?"

Cam chuckled. "I'm fine. It's just that Daniel and Sam were trapped—alone—above water." He pulled her chin up so she was looking in his eyes. "Alone."

She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Do you suppose that the two of them—?"

He nodded. "I think so."

Her smile broadened. "How fantastic is that? I mean, what are the odds of it happening to them, too?"

"Well, I would think that the odds have nothing to do with it," he responded. "The two of them have been on the verge of it for _years_."

"I suppose my flirtations with Daniel didn't help matters, then?" she said absently. "When I first met them, that is. I mean, now...I only have eyes for you."

"Do you?" he asked, his expression changing a little.

"Of course," she answered instantly.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Really?" He pulled her closer to him.

"Are you accusing me of lying, Colonel Mitchell?" she asked softly, her lips mere millimeters from his.

"I would never do that."

"Then what are you saying?" she whispered the question.

He paused for a long moment. "I'm saying that on that planet, your choices of mate was greatly reduced, and now that we're back—"

She quieted him by pressing her finger to his lips. "I chose you. Not because you were the only choice, but because I want you," she told him softly. "That's not going to change."

He smiled, but Vala saw a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Then marry me?"

3


End file.
